More Than Air
by La Enamorada
Summary: A girl is slowly suffocating in her narrow world, until release comes from the most unexpected of places. Ginny-Pansy
1. Enclosed Spaces

_Chapter 1: Confined Spaces_

She was supposed to be untouchable, like a distant star.

That's what they wanted of her – to be an admired, lovely but fundamentally asexual creature. She was not allowed to feel desire, or crave intimacy. Sex was all around her, but both the animal drive to mate and the human need for contact were deemed to be beneath her. She tried to pretend that they really were.

Betrothed to the heir apparent of the most important family in Britain, Pansy Parkinson had been groomed her whole life to be the epitome of aloof gentility.

She had the pedigree. Close enough in blood to her betrothed, but not too close. Moreover, she also possessed the physical attributes the Malfoys favored – and they appreciated the beauty of nothing so much as their own looks. Pansy had the same fine facial bone structure and pale porcelain complexion. The same silvery-blue eyes, and platinum blond hair, carefully maintained in a tidy bob identical to Narcissa's. She could have been Draco's sister. All the better to ensure that the next Malfoy heir would resemble his father, as Draco resembled his father and, as the Malfoy portraits demonstrated, previous Malfoy heirs had done for generations.

Pansy would be the mother of the next in that hallowed line. As such, she was expected to keep herself and her body pure for her future husband. Generations ago, she might have spent her entire young life shut away, carefully guarded until her wedding-night like some fairy tale princess in a tower. Pansy often thought that she would have preferred such an existence.

However, an education at one of the premier wizarding schools was now _de rigueur, _and attending Hogwarts meant that the Malfoys could keep a more careful eye on her.But for Pansy it meant that every day was spent in the public eye, where the slightest misstep might end up as fodder for the gossips, or worse, in the _Daily Prophet_'s society pages. Any interest shown in her by any boy was immediately rebuffed, preferably in public, preferably with a healthy dose of condescension. Danger to her reputation aside, any entanglements would be futile, and could only end in disaster.

Her peers just thought her cold. "She might be pure as snow," one malicious rival had said of Pansy, "but she's also just as frigid." _Ice wouldn't melt…_

She let them think it.

But it was all a lie.

~~**~~

Pansy leaned back against the cold stone. In the darkness, the sensual sounds of the lovemaking seemed more distinct. The rustle of clothing hastily unbuttoned and pushed aside. The silken rasp of skin moving over skin. The wet sounds of mouths departing one hungry area of flesh to attend to another. A soft, feminine voice making incoherent sounds of pleasure. Draco's voice in concert with hers, breathless, barely more than a murmer, yet still commanding, "Yes, that's it… just a bit more… yes, like that." He moaned with satisfaction even as he continued with hands, tongue, hips to press for still further submission. Pansy felt her body respond, the pulse between her legs growing stronger, her nipples forming stiff peaks that strained against the thin lace of her bra. Her hands skimmed her sides, roughly caressing her own hips and thighs. Draco gave a low, passionate growl and she felt her hips buck in response.

It was slow torture, for Draco's demands for access and gratification were being met by the body of another girl, a Hufflepuff fifth-year whose name Pansy couldn't quite remember. Though Draco might have been aware that Pansy heard them as well. She suspected he knew that she followed him on his conquests, watching silently from the shadows. He might have even enjoyed the thought that she was playing the voyeur – Pansy could not quite read his knowing smile as he recounted his liaisons in the common room, without regard to her presence. In any event, if he did know, he made no attempt to discourage her.

It wasn't precisely jealousy that drove her – for there could be no real rival. Pansy was secure in her position as the future Mrs. Malfoy, though she hadn't chosen that any more than Draco had.

Pansy liked to keep track of Draco's encounters -- which girls he chose, and what he did with them. She tried to discern a pattern, to discover what it was he liked. Who did he fuck more than once? Who did he simply toy with and then cut loose? 

So, she wasn't jealous of the girls Draco fucked. But she found that she was jealous of Draco, of his freedom to explore as he would while she… had to fend for herself. Most others, Draco included, had the luxury of deciding what they wanted to do and who they wanted to do it with. It had been decided for Pansy that she would give her virginity to Draco on their wedding night. Even the date had been chosen, before Draco and Pansy had said their first words.

But theirs was not a love-match. It was a contract. She would give him an heir; he would give her the Malfoy name and all that went with it. Not a bad deal at all, unless you considered that Pansy would never know love. Draco might -- heaven knows he'd looked for it under the robes of half their female schoolmates already. Not hers, though. Not yet. Not until the marriage had been made would she be touched. No matter how her body and soul cried out for it.

And even after the marriage, she had no guarantee that Draco would be much of a mate. The terms of their marriage contract were clear on sex as well – after marriage she was bound to Draco alone, while he was bound to her exclusively only until an heir was produced. Once he managed to get Pansy pregnant with a son, he'd never be obliged to fuck her again. Which, if he so chose, would mean that she'd never be fucked again, by anyone. Pansy wanted to make sure that it didn't come to that. If Draco would be the only one she would ever take to bed, she needed to learn how to please him. She needed to make sure that bedding her was more than just duty for him. And so she watched.

Pansy heard the other girl cry out sharply in pain and surprise as Draco entered her with a single stroke. Another virgin fallen to Draco Malfoy, then. _The little fool had not played that card very well_. She would likely be one of the ones rapidly discarded. Draco liked a conquest, but disliked emotional attachments. And once he'd had them, a deflowered virgin could be right needy. 

Draco was placating her even now. "Ah, love, you should have told me. I'd have been more gentle." Draco held his hips still, but did not remove himself from the girl. He was stroking her cheek, and looking upon her with apparent tenderness.

The girl bean to sob slightly, holding tight to Draco's shoulders. "I was afraid… you wouldn't… and I wanted… ah, gods! It hurts!" she whimpered. 

"Shhh… you just need to relax a bit, and the hurt will pass." He kissed her gently, to stop the protest forming on her lips. "I promise you, you'll like this once it does." Pansy could just make out Draco's deceptively sweet smile in the moonlight. "Here, now. I'm going to take this very gently." Draco began rocking his hips slowly, helping the girl get used to him.

The girl's eyes were still squeezed shut and her mouth contorted in a grimace. "I'll stop, love, if you really want me to…" Draco purred, dropping his mouth to one of the girl's taut nipples, not stopping the rhythm of his hips. The girl's only response was an incoherent gasp. Pansy had never heard a girl actually ask him to stop.

But Pansy had seen enough for tonight. She was tired, and her body ached with a need for caresses that would not come. Ordinarily, she would have stayed to watch the entire proceeding, to experience what vicarious release she could from watching them bring each other to climax. (She had been somewhat pleased to note that Draco had some skill in satisfying his lovers.) Sometimes, she even stayed to watch the cuddling and pillow-talk that came afterward. But not often, for this did ignite her jealousy. While she understood that sex was something Draco was obliged to withhold from her for the moment, she was hurt that he withheld most other physical contact from her as well. She didn't like to see him lavish tenderness on another when he denied it to her.

Pansy slipped silently from the greenhouse, careful to ensure that none of the moonbeams breaking through the clutches of plants caught her hair. She knew it would glow like a beacon, as Draco's did in moonlight. A few paces away from the greenhouse door, she stopped for a moment, letting the night air cool her overheated body before beginning the long walk back toward the dungeons and Slytherin House.

Once back inside the castle, Pansy dropped her guard a bit and began to walk more easily. The castle was quiet; but it was rather late even for the teachers' nighttime patrols. Only Filch, and occasionally Snape, would be prowling about at this hour, and neither posed a threat to her.

As she neared entrance to the common room, she caught a glimpse of someone sneaking around the next corner. Pansy quickened her pace, keeping her footfalls silent. 

Pansy smiled to herself when she recognized the Weasley girl, unmistakable red hair aglow in the torchlight of the dungeon. She crept up behind her, keeping to the shadows. She wanted to wait for the girl to actually dirty her hands with whatever mischief she was planning. One of the few pleasures left open for Pansy was using her prefect's badge to make life miserable for other students, Gryffindors in particular. She was going to enjoy this.

Weasley stopped in front of Professor Snape's office door, drew her wand and whispered an incantation. To Pansy's surprise, the door opened quietly. The girl or her little cohorts must have found out a spell to break Snape's wards. As Weasley made to enter the office, Pansy stepped out of the shadows to confront her.

~~**~~

"Well, well. A midnight raid on Professor Snape's office, is it? They'll have your prefect's badge for this, Weasley."

Ginny Weasley jumped at the words that seemed to come from out of nowhere. _Damn._ She had rushed down here with barely a thought when the letter came, and then had been so focused on her task that she hadn't heard Parkinson approach. _Bloody hell, of all the people…_ She felt her face flush with agitation as she turned around to face Parkinson, who was standing there with her arms crossed and a smug expression on her face. 

"I wasn't… I just needed…" Ginny stammered. What had Parkinson seen? She couldn't let the Slytherin girl know that Snape had given her access to his office. _Think, Weasley!_ "I had a… detention tonight and I… left something in Professor Snape's office."

Pansy smirked. "I see. You forgot something _so bloody important_ that you didn't even notice it was missing until after two in the morning. You needed to have it _so badly_ that you had to break into a teacher's office to get it, rather than simply asking Professor Snape in the morning. Really Weasley, I know Gryffindors are thick, but even you can come up with a better story than that."

"But it's not a… I'm here for my…"

"Or maybe it's just that you don't care what rules you break, since they don't seem to apply to your House anyway." Parkinson sneered.

"But I swear, I…"

Pansy laughed harshly. "Of course you _swear_," she said, placing her hand mockingly across her heart, "On your solemn, _sacred_ honor as a Gryffindor. And that old hag McGonagall will sweep right in and see that you get off lightly won't she? _Poor girl just needed to collect her things._ Never mind Snape's privacy or the school rules – those are just secondary concerns. No harm done, right?" 

There was real venom in Parkinson's voice, where usually there was just cold contempt. The girl's cheeks were flushed, and her face was contorted with hot anger. She had been stepping closer as she spoke, and was now leaning in so that her face was mere inches from Ginny's. "But I'll report you anyway, Weasley. Professor Snape has a right to know you've been prowling about his office. I'm sure at least _he'll_ see to it that you pay - one way or another."

Ginny was not intimidated. But she still took a step backward, further into Snape's office doorway, to get clear of the girl. She'd heard enough threats and taunts from Parkinson and the other Slytherins that by now she simply shrugged them off. Besides, now that she had recovered from the initial shock of being discovered unexpectedly, she remembered that she was as much a prefect as Parkinson. And a trusted agent of the Order, who still had a mission to complete.

"Fine. You've caught me out." Ginny said, pushing Snape's office door the rest of the way open. "Go ahead and report me. But I'm getting my book," she said the last bit over her shoulder as she turned crisply around and walked into the office before Parkinson could stop her.

Parkinson seemed slightly stunned by her boldness, and it took her a moment to follow Ginny into the office. Ginny had marched straight to Snape's desk and grabbed a book that happened to be sitting there. Her body still blocking Parkinson's view, she slid her father's note out of her pocket and put it on top of a pile of parchments on the center of Snape's desk. As she placed it there, a charm activated so that it would look just like the other student parchments in the pile to anyone but a member of the Order. Snape would see what Ginny saw – the large golden phoenix seal that indicated official Order correspondence. He would notice it immediately when he came to his desk. Ginny could do no more at the moment.

Still clutching the book, Ginny turned back to face the other girl. Parkinson had her wand out. "That's it, Weasley. I'm going to find Snape _now._ And you're coming with me."

Just then, a loud clatter sounded from further down the corridor, followed by the sound of a young boy calling for help. The two girls instinctively looked toward the open door, then back at each other for a moment, Parkinson looking as though she was unsure of how to respond. The boy called again, spurring Ginny to action.

"Listen, Parkinson. I know you're anxious for justice to be dealt out and all, but there's a boy that sounds like he's in trouble. And I'm a prefect. I'm going to go investigate." Ginny pulled her wand out of her sleeve as she said this, though she did not take aim at the other girl. "You, of course, can do as you like."

Ginny didn't wait for Parkinson to answer. She marched out the door and in the direction of the boy's voice. She heard Parkinson's footsteps behind her.

"Weasley…"

Ginny didn't answer, and didn't break her stride. Parkinson caught up to her, grabbing her arm.

"Weasley. The kid's probably lost. First year, I'll wager. It happens a lot down here."

Ginny looked at her expectantly, but said nothing.

"I know these dungeons a lot better than you. I should… I should come along with you," Parkinson said finally, sounding as if she had just made a decision.

"Glad to hear that. It's only your duty, after all." Ginny said, coolly as she could. She took just a moment to enjoy Parkinson's clear surprise at the rebuke, and continued on her way. Parkinson fell into step beside her but said nothing more until they heard the boy call out again. Ginny started off in what sounded like the direction of the call, but the other girl stopped her.

"Wait. We need to figure out where he exactly is. Sound echoes in here." She stepped in front of Ginny and called out, "Hello? Can you hear me? Shout if you can hear me!"

"I can hear you! Help me!" came the plaintive reply.

"This way," said Parkinson, leading the way toward a dark, narrow corridor Ginny hadn't noticed. Parkinson cast _lumos_ and Ginny followed suit.

Even with the glow emanating from both their wands, there wasn't much light. There were no torches set along the walls here as there were in the areas near the Potions classrooms and the Slytherin dormitories. Ginny slowed her pace instinctively, although Parkinson seemed to know where she was going and moved on ahead of her. It was possible to hear the boy's sobbing now, so she knew they must be getting closer.

Ginny called out to the boy again, to get a better idea of where he was. "Hey kid, we're coming to help. But you need to help us find you. Where are you?"

"I'm not sure. I can't see. It's so dark, and my leg is hurt. Please, come quickly!"

Parkinson started moving quickly in the direction of the boy's voice, with Ginny in her wake. It came from a room that appeared to be built into the base of one of the castle's towers, for its entrance formed a great round protrusion in the wall. The door was open, and thinking only of the sobbing boy, both girls stepped inside.

The heavy wooden door suddenly slammed shut behind them as soon as they had stepped into the middle of the room. They heard what had been a child's voice mutate into loud, cackling laughter. Then the floor, which had appeared to be solid stone, began to descend. As the floor moved downward, it rapidly picked up speed, knocking both girls off their feet. The floor dropped what must have been several hundred feet before coming to a sudden stop.

The girls stared at each other in confusion, and then looked up at the source of the continuing laughter. _Peeves_.

"Oh, look! The wittle pwefects is trapped!" he taunted. "Caught in one of nasty old lunatic Slythierin's traps!" he continued to laugh as the girls stared up at him.

"Oh help me! I'm lost!" Peeves said, in the little-boy voice again, in case they hadn't realized what he'd done. "Such an easy mark you two were."

"Listen here, Peeves," Ginny said, putting on her best authoritative voice, "You've had your fun. Now let us out of here."

"Ohhh! Listen to the little weasel giving orders to Peeves! Well, just so you know, there _is _no way out. Soon, even _I'll _forget you were here!" Cackling with mad glee, Peeves then shot straight up -- back to where they had first come into the room, Ginny assumed. It was so far up in the darkness that she couldn't see.

~~**~~

Panic mounted within Pansy as she realized that they were trapped. There were no doors or windows in their round prison, only the two torches Weasley had found lit the gloom. Her instinct was to claw at the walls, beat upon them with her bare hands. Pansy knew this was useless, and yet the need to do it was almost overwhelming. In her mind she knew that the ceiling was hundreds of feet above them, but still the darkness made the space feel close and oppressive. She could feel the heavy presence of the walls closing in upon her, limiting her air.

Only the presence of the little Weasley chit allowed Pansy to keep her head -- she would not lose her composure, least of all in front of a Gryffindor. She backed up into the center of the room, to get away from the walls.

Pansy watched as Weasley carefully continued to run her hands over the stones, looking for a hidden exit. Attempting to clear her head, Pansy used the calming technique Professor Snape had taught her: she recited potions ingredients. She chose the Draught of Peace -- _valerian root, moonstone, hellebore_.... She sank to the floor and pinned her trembling hands between her thighs, rested her chin on her knees. She tried to keep her breathing even.

Weasley eventually noticed that Pansy was not helping to look for a way out. She turned around to look at her. 

"What is it? Why aren't you helping me? Waiting for your dear Draco to come to the rescue?" Weasley asked with contempt.

Pansy raised her head and made an unsteady attempt to stick out her chin in defiance. _Show no weakness!_ She wanted to utter the scornful retort the little bitch deserved, but couldn't quite find the breath to speak.

Weasley took a step closer, looking at Pansy with sudden concern. "Are you okay?"

All Pansy could manage was a whimper. She flushed scarlet with humiliation. She was a disgrace to her House. She turned her head away.

~~**~~

Ginny moved to the floor beside Parkinson. She could see that the Slytherin girl was very scared. She was too terrified to even bother to insult a Weasley. 

Tentatively, Ginny put a hand out to her shoulder to comfort her. At that, Pansy found her voice. "Don't," she said, shrugging Ginny's hand away.

"Listen, Parkin-- Pansy. It's going to be okay."

"HOW is it going to be okay?" Pansy half-shouted, half-sobbed. "We're trapped. We're going to die in here!" Pansy knew she was raving, her hands gesticulating wildly. She couldn't stop. "No one knows we're here. We're running out of air, and I can't even hold my wand. I need... to get out... I need..." She was overpowered by the urge to cry, deep racking sobs that shook her body.

Ginny knew this wasn't good. She had heard of people who could not bear closed spaces, and it looked like Parkinson was one of them. They were in enough trouble already -- Ginny didn't need a hysterical Slytherin as well. 

Well, she had learned much from her mother about how to comfort irrational terrors. She only hoped a little comfort would be enough. Ginny put her arms around the sobbing girl, smoothing Pansy's pale, damp hair away from her face.

Pansy allowed herself to be held. To her surprise, it was taking the edge from her terror. The embrace was warm, and safe and somehow… _right_. She'd often wished Draco would hold her like this... 

Pansy forcibly pushed all thoughts of Draco out of her mind. She wanted to concentrate on Ginny's soft fingers stroking her cheek. On Ginny's soft lips whispering words of comfort against her forehead.

Ginny felt the girl relax in her arms, and deep tenderness welled up within her.

It made her feel strong, protective. She took Pansy's face in her hands.

"Pansy, look at me. I _will_ get us out of here. You stay here, and try to stay calm. Breathe easy. Everything will be alright."

Pansy let herself believe it. She looked up at Ginny with undisguised gratitude. Ginny would save her.

~~**~~

**TBC**

-------------------------

A/N:This story is based on a ficlet I wrote in response to LeoGryffin's Challenge #10 at LiveJournal's 30minutefics, which was:  
  
Two HP characters are locked in a room of Hogwarts with no apparent way out. One of them is claustrophobic, and the other has to figure out a way to calm them down. 


	2. Surfacing

_Chapter 2: Surfacing_

Ginny was getting cold. 

There was no heat source in the room; the ceiling was so far away as to be out of sight, and no doubt any warm air was up there with it. The stones themselves were cold and slightly damp.

She had taken off her robes and wrapped them around Pansy, who was still shivering miserably on the floor. Ginny had already cast a warming charm around the girl, although that hadn't seemed to help her much either. She didn't have the skill to maintain another for herself. 

She'd given Pansy the robes more for the comfort than the warmth. The girl was still so frightened, and seeing the normally proud and haughty creature reduced to this wrenched at Ginny's heart. Perhaps she should have been amused to see her enemy in such a state, but Ginny found that she only wanted to soothe her fears away. She had wanted to keep holding her, because that had seemed to help, but she couldn't do that and effectively look for a way out. So she'd wrapped her robes around her instead.

Ginny had experienced a brief, childish moment of embarrassment at being seen by the elegant Slytherin in her shabby, homemade jumper and frayed Muggle jeans. Had these been normal circumstances, the Pansy Parkinson she knew would have drawled some disdainful comment either about the clothes or her family's general poverty. But Pansy's full attention seemed focused a the vain attempt to control her fear. When Ginny had wrapped her robes around her, Pansy had smiled just weakly and thanked her, in between shallow gasps of breath.

Ginny knew that she had to get Pansy out of here soon. The other girl was not only clearly unable to govern her panic, but it seemed that she might have actually made herself seriously ill. She had vomited several times already, and though Ginny had banished the mess each time and cast purifying spells on Pansy's mouth to remove the taste, the sour smell still permeated the air of their prison. 

Pansy was sweating profusely, so much so that Ginny had needed to cast drying charms on the girl's hair and clothes twice already, yet her skin was cool to the touch. Pansy had also begun to experience spells of dizziness that made it hard for her to even sit up. Ginny knew that at the very least Pansy must be dehydrated by now, but she feared that it might be more serious than that.

They had been trapped for what must have been at least three hours. Ginny had painstakingly searched every inch of the walls she could reach, looking for a trigger. She'd cast _aparecium_ about the room randomly, hoping to reveal something of use. She'd attempted to create a door, and failing that she'd angrily (and equally unsuccessfully) attempted to blast a hole in the wall. She'd also cast all the noise-generating spells she could think of to draw attention to their position, hoping to attract Filch, Mrs. Norris, or whomever else might be prowling about at this hour. All she'd managed was to give herself a headache.

Ginny realized that if Peeves had been telling the truth and this really was a trap built by Slytherin himself, there were likely dozens of charms on the place, all intended to keep prisoners like Ginny from using their magic to escape. Considering her own personal experience with such things, Ginny thought that curling up on the floor next to Parkinson and cowering in fear might be a perfectly reasonable response to the situation. As it was, she was just grateful that this chamber didn't appear to be designed to do anything other than keep them prisoner.

Dawn must be approaching. There was hope that rescue might come soon, even though it was a Saturday morning and the castle's inhabitants would wake a bit later than during the week. If no one had noticed they were missing yet, they surely would soon.

It galled Ginny to admit it, but their best hope of getting out of here was a rescue. Someone would have to notice they were missing, and then find them here.

Gryffindor didn't have Quidditch practice until nine, so it wasn't likely she'd be missed until then. But Slytherin had the pitch at six, so perhaps Bulstrode would notice Pansy's absence when she woke and alert Snape, who would almost certainly know Ginny had been in his office, delivering that note...

_Oh, this is just useless._

Ginny kicked the wall in frustration. Even though she trusted that someone would find them eventually, and probably rather soon at that, she still had promised Pansy that she would get them out. And there seemed to be nothing, nothing at all she could do except sit and wait for someone else to rescue them.

She picked up the book she had swiped from Snape's desk. A useless thing - full of blank pages, or at least as far as Ginny could tell. It had not responded to any revealing spells that she knew. Ginny thought that, at the very least, she ought to make Pansy as comfortable as possible while they waited. She knelt down beside the girl and raised her wand over the book, preparing to transfigure it into a pillow.

Pansy looked up, her eyes suddenly going very wide. 

"Wait!" she cried, sitting up abruptly, and taking the book from Ginny's hands. The moment she did, the book's cover changed from a nondescript brown to a deep green, and the Slytherin serpent appeared in the center, embossed in silver.

"Do you know what this is?" Pansy asked, her voice sounding slightly awed.

"Um, I..." _Smooth, Weasley._

"I already know that this isn't _your_ book. But do you know what it is?"

Ginny shook her head.

"If it's what I think it is..." Pansy opened the book, and started leafing through the pages. What had been blank parchment a moment before was now covered with writing and hand-drawn illustrations. "Yes! Yes, it _is_! Oh, thank Merlin!"

Pansy's terror seemed to have subsided with this new discovery, whatever it was. She cast a quick translation spell and shifted so that the dim light from the torches lit the book a little better. Ginny moved in for a closer look.

"So what is it?"

"This book was written by Salazar Slytherin himself." Pansy said reverently. "When he abandoned Hogwarts, he left this book with his son, who became the first Slytherin Head of House. It's belonged to every Head of Slytherin House since. It's... a manual, of sorts."

"A manual?" echoed Ginny suspiciously. She didn't like the sound of anything written by Salazar Slytherin, let alone a secret book of... _instructions_ for his House. The gods knew what sort of Dark magic he'd infected the thing with.

"Yes. And among other things, I think it has information on the, er... modifications Slytherin made to Hogwarts. And if this room is what that horrid poltergeist said it was..."

Ginny felt the blood leave her face. This room was hardly the most sinister of Slytherin's "modifications" to Hogwarts, as she knew only too well. But if this book had the kind of information Pansy was talking about...

Then Pansy turned the page. 

The Chamber of Secrets was rendered there in ink, drawn in careful detail by the hand of the man who had built it. A magical illustration, for when the wizard depicted in the foreground raised his wand, a basilisk emerged from the mouth of the stone statue built into the wall of the chamber. The drawing was so well rendered and lifelike that Ginny half-expected the wizard to turn around, revealing the face of Tom Riddle.

Ginny, in her impatience to read what was written there, grabbed the book away from the other girl's lap. As soon as the book left Pansy's fingers, the pages went blank again.

Pansy looked up in surprise, followed quickly by anger. "What on earth are you doing?"

"The Chamber of Secrets! This has information on the Chamber of Secrets!" shouted Ginny, waving the book at Pansy almost accusingly.

"Well, of _course_ it does. I just told you that..."

"You mean that you Slytherins _knew_ all about that place and didn't tell anyone?" Ginny asked angrily. "You knew... _Snape_ knew that it was more than a legend, knew how to stop it even, and you let it all happen anyway?" Ginny had only just learned to trust Snape, and now she found that he was every bit the evil bastard had always seemed. _Make that_ traitorous _evil bastard_....

"Hold on, Weasley. I can't speak for what Snape knew or didn't know at the time, but I certainly knew no more than the rumors that you or any other student might have heard flying about."

"Then explain what I just saw. Explain to me how the Slytherins had a book - written by Slytherin himself, no less! - with detailed information about the Chamber that they didn't share with anyone over, oh... the last thousand years or so. Explain why Snape didn't think that this was something he needed to share with Dumbledore, so that the damned thing could be dismantled. Tell me!"

"Well, for starters, you don't know that Snape _didn't_ share what he knew, if he knew anything more than the others. I don't know what else is in that text. I had barely made it through the first paragraph myself. And that told me nothing that wasn't in the legend. So, let's have a look, shall we?" She held her hand out for the book, and Ginny reluctantly passed it back to her.

As Pansy's anger subsided, her illness seemed to return. She had settled the book in her lap and tried to continue reading, but she was shivering again, enough so that she was having a difficult time. "There doesn't seem to be anything... concrete... just more of the same stuff from the legend, except here it says something about a "great, avenging serpent" that would purge the school. Look for yourself." She motioned Ginny closer and turned the book so that she could read.

"Here," she pointed out a paragraph to Ginny, "he tells us he isn't going to say _where_ exactly the Chamber is, or how to open it. Didn't trust his own son or anyone else with that, it seems. Apparently, there was a prophecy... told him that his _true_ heir would find it, and that heir alone would be able to speak the words that would open it."

_Parseltongue, of course._ Ginny had forgotten that bit. You needed to be a parselmouth to open the Chamber, even if you did know where to find it. And it was an extremely rare skill - only two people alive were known to have that ability. She had been lucky that one of them was Harry Potter.

"I... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions."

"Hmph. It's not as though Slytherins aren't _used_ to being suspected of every possible misdeed anyway." Pansy sniffed. "But thank you for at least admitting you were wrong this time."

"So. Do you think there is anything in here that can help us out of our current mess?"

"I'm fairly sure that there should be something. I'm just so... it's hard to focus. I wish I could just hand this off to you. No doubt you'd fare better than I will just now."

"Well, you only need to be holding the book, right? How about if I just read over your shoulder?" Ginny asked. "Maybe it will help us warm up a bit as well. You're shivering again."

Moving behind the other girl, she allowed Pansy to lean against her, while Ginny rested her head on Pansy's shoulder as she read.

After leafing through a few dozen pages, Ginny commented, "He keeps saying that members of his own house are immune to these traps, but that doesn't appear to be the case, does it? How would it know, anyway, what House you're in?"

"Well, the initiation spell, for one..."

"The _what_?"

"The initiation spell... the one that's placed on you after you're sorted? Ours was done right after we came into the common room for the first time."

"We... Gryffindors don't do that."

"Oh. That's strange. Snape always makes such a fuss over ours, makes everyone attend every year. And it _is_ powerful. I've never felt such a strong sense of belonging..."

"So," Ginny interrupted her, "do you think that's how the castle, these traps rather, are supposed to recognize you?"

"Well, I tried casting a few spells -- initiation supposedly alters your magical signature - but it didn't seem to work. It _is_ something Slytherins use to recognize each other, but I don't know how to make this _place_ recognize me..."

"I wonder if there's anything in here about initiation... maybe..."

Ginny flipped through the book until she found what she was looking for. "Here it is... and it even tells us... oh."

Ginny was stunned by what she had read. Blood magic, therefore most likely Dark magic, was what the Slytherin initiation spell entailed. In order to activate the protective power of that spell, more blood magic was necessary. Pansy would have to perform a Dark spell in order to release them.

"What?"

"This spell. It requires you to spill your blood."

Pansy laughed. "So? That's not so unexpected..."

"Pansy... this is a _Dark_ spell. Are you sure you want to..."

"Don't be absurd, Weasley. Slytherins don't believe in light versus dark. There is only magic. The only difference between one spell and another is in the skill and power of the caster. Any other distinction is a foolish one."

"But... surely you don't just..."

"Yes, just like any other spell. And no one's going to be hurt by this anyway - it's my blood, not yours after all."

She looked determined enough that Ginny did not bother to argue further, although her unease with the spell persisted. This wasn't any ordinary blood magic, this was a spell created by Slytherin himself.

Pansy studied the text a moment longer before looking up. "I'm going to need a sharp knife. Do you think you could conjure one for me?"

She didn't say that she was too weak to manage it herself, although Ginny guessed that was the case. She conjured the knife and handed it to Pansy.

Pansy moved to a kneeling position. She held her hands out over the floor, the knife blade tightly enclosed in the palm of her left hand, and drew a deep breath. Ginny winced as Pansy quickly drew out the knife with her other hand, slicing her palm open. 

As the first drops of blood hit the floor, Ginny _felt_ the stones react. 

"_Serpentigena Sum_," Pansy cried out, squeezing her bleeding hand tightly to increase the flow of her blood as she completed the rest of the incantation, "_Sanguine Serpentino, Salva Me!_"

The walls and floor began to tremble, as though the room itself were moving. Then the floor began to rise, and though it rose much more slowly and smoothly than it had fallen, Pansy lost her balance and fell forward on the floor, catching herself with her uncut hand. Ginny moved torward her with her wand out, and cast first a cleaning and then a healing charm on her injured hand. Pansy smiled her thanks, then gathered up the book in her arms again, looking expectantly at the now-open door that had appeared above them and would be shortly within their reach.

Ginny didn't wait for the room to stop moving. As soon as the exit was accessible, she grabbed Pansy around the waist, hauling her to her feet and out the open door. As they tumbled out into the corridor, Ginny's arm still firmly about Pansy's waist, they heard the door slam shut again behind them. Turning back to look, Ginny found that there was no door at all any longer, only a smooth, blank stone wall.

Taking a better look around, Ginny realized that although they appeared to be still in the dungeons, they were in a different place entirely then where they had entered the trap. They did not appear to be at the base of a tower any longer, as the walls here were perfectly flat. And there were lit torches along this hallway, unlike the neglected area Peeves had led them into.

Pansy let out a sob of relief. "We did it! Oh, Ginny, we did it!" She still had Slytherin's book clutched in her arms, between Ginny's body and her own, but she didn't move away from Ginny's embrace.

Pansy looked like an entirely different person. For once, her perfect hair was disarrayed and damp. It had rebelliously reverted to its natural waviness, freed of the perfectly smooth elegance Pansy usually forced it into. Her normally impeccable clothes were rumpled, Ginny's robes still about her shoulders. The residue of Pansy's tastefully applied makeup had left smudges around her lips and eyes. The perfect porcelain skin of her face was covered with a fine sheen of sweat, her normally pale cheeks flushed pink. Perfectly composed features had given way to a look of undisguised relief, joy even. Eyes bright, smiling, lips slightly parted.

She looked a mess. She was the most beautiful thing Ginny had ever seen.

Suddenly possessed by the urge to kiss that lovely mouth, Ginny didn't even try to fight. Leaning forward, she placed a tender kiss on Pansy's lips.

Pansy gave a soft "Oh!" of surprise, her eyes searching Ginny's as Ginny brought one hand up to stroke her cheek. Pansy looked as though she might say more, but Ginny thought another kiss would say more than any words could. This time, Pansy hesitated only a moment before returning the kiss, leaning into Ginny's embrace.

Ginny felt Pansy's lips open slightly as they kissed, tempting her to explore the other girl's mouth. She let her tongue trace Pansy's upper lip, enticing her to let Ginny in. Pansy reacted more strongly to that slight intimacy than Ginny had dared hope; she gasped and let the book drop to the floor, forgotten as she pressed her body intimately against Ginny's, suddenly hungry for contact. She moaned softly into Ginny's mouth as Ginny caressed her soft palate with her tongue.

For a moment, it was the most perfect bliss Ginny had ever experienced.

Then suddenly, Pansy's panic seemed return. She pulled away abruptly from Ginny, stepping back a few paces, attempting to catch her breath. 

"We... we'll be missed. We need to be getting back." Her voice attempted to convey a calm that it was all too apparent she didn't feel.

Without waiting for Ginny to answer, she continued briskly, "And we need to get this back to Snape's office before he knows it's gone." She picked the fallen book up off the floor and took a few steps down the corridor, before turning back to look at the stunned Ginny.

"Come on, I know the way. We're near my common room," said Pansy, for all the world as though nothing had just happened. "It's around that corner."

~~**~~

Pansy was shaken, down to her soul, by a kiss from Ginny Weasley. 

She had been kissed before. Draco had done so quite a bit a few years ago, before moving on to other girls. Pansy had tried to not to dwell on the fact that he had essentially used her for practice, and that his kisses had lacked a certain amount of passion. She had, after all, enjoyed them at the time. And she had never known any other kind of kiss.

But this... _oh, sweet Merlin._

This was nothing like she had ever experienced, or had expected to experience. This wasn't a mere echo of desire, originating from afar and washing over her like ripples on a pond. This came from deep within her, a strong, swelling tide that threatened to drown her if she did not find her bearings.

She needed time to deal with this. She kept walking, despite the fact that what she wanted to do more than anything was to turn around and throw herself into the arms of the girl who was following her. 

This wouldn't do, to lose her heart like this. She wasn't free. But a moment ago, just for a moment, she had felt like she was.

Pansy could not handle any of this right now. Her body was still weak from the vomiting and the cold, and she could feel her knees start to give way. She caught herself, bracing against the wall before she fell.

Ginny came over to her, concerned. "You're still ill, Pansy." she said gently. "We need to get you to the hospital wing". She smiled, all full of tender care again, the fire of a moment before dissipating.

"Let me help you. Here." She took the book from Pansy's hands, tucking it under her own arm. Then Ginny moved to support her, taking her elbow with one hand while putting her other arm around Pansy's waist again, so that they were side by side. "We'll only be able to move slowly, but we'll get there." 

They had only made it a few steps when Pansy looked up and saw Professor Snape bearing down on them at top speed from the opposite end of the hallway, his black robes billowing about him as he strode.

"_Shit!_" She heard Ginny exclaim under her breath. Though she liked her Head of House, at the moment Pansy had to concur.

"Miss Weasley. Miss Parkinson. Half the castle has been up all night searching for you. Would you care to explain yourselves?"

Snape leaned forward and plucked Slytherin's book out from underneath Ginny's arm. "You may begin, Miss Weasley, by explaining how _this_ came to be in your possession."

Almost without thinking, Pansy answered for her. "It's my fault, Professor. I took the book from your desk."

Both Snape and Ginny turned to look at her in surprise. _Please Ginny, just play along._

"Explain," said Snape harshly.

Pansy took a deep breath. "Well sir, I was feeling ill and was on my way to the infirmary when I heard someone shouting for help. It was Weasley, and when she described where she was... I knew that the book might help. I couldn't find you, so I took it from your office and went to help her myself." She heard herself spin the lie, observing Snape closely as she spoke. He didn't believe her. That didn't mean that he would not accept the explanation, however, at least in front of Ginny.

Snape's eyes narrowed, his frown deepening. There was a tense moment before he said, "I see."

Turning back to Ginny, Snape continued. "There is still the matter of why you were out of Gryffindor Tower after hours in the first place."

Ginny opened her mouth to speak, but Snape put his hand up to indicate that she should remain silent. "I'm sure your story is fascinating, Miss Weasley. However, it shall have to wait for Monday evening at six, when you shall serve detention with me. For the time being, twenty points from Gryffindor for being out of bounds will have to suffice. Miss Parkinson is clearly ill, and will need to be taken to the hospital wing."

"I can walk her there, Professor. It's on the way...."

"_I_ will escort Miss Parkinson to the hospital wing," said Snape, an edge of anger creeping into his voice. "_You_ will return to your dormitory immediately. Professor McGonagall will no doubt want a word with you." He moved to Pansy's other side and put his hands on her shoulders to support her. 

Ginny had not let go of Pansy's arm, and was still looking at her with concern.

"_Now_, Miss Weasley," Snape growled, "or I shall be obliged to deduct further points from Gryffindor for your disobedience."

Pansy gave Ginny a small smile and a nod to indicate that she'd be all right.

Ginny nodded in return, then turned and walked briskly toward Gryffindor Tower, briefly looking over her shoulder as she began to mount the stairs.

She was barely out of sight when Pansy's vision began to blur again, and she felt herself sway dangerously. Snape caught her around the waist, drawing her toward him before she could fall. 

"Steady, Miss Parkinson," Snape said gently, setting her back on her feet for just a moment before proceeding to lift her up into his arms. Pansy gratefully leaned her head against him, holding on as tightly to his thin shoulders as she could manage, even though his arms cradled her to him securely. He walked briskly toward the infirmary, seemingly unhampered by carrying her weight up the endless flights of stairs.

When they reached the hospital wing, Snape set Pansy down on the nearest bed. With a flick of his wand, he removed her shoes, and then lifted the coverlet that had been neatly folded at the foot of the bed, tucking it in about her shoulders before going to find Madame Pomfrey. Pansy had begun to shiver again the moment she had left the warmth of Snape's body. She curled into a tight ball underneath the coverlet, trying to warm up.

After a moment, Pomfrey came hurrying over, with Snape in her wake. Snape remained at the foot of the bed, watching like a sentinel as Pomfrey worked her over.

"I'm going to keep Miss Parkinson here for today, Professor, until her readings are back to normal." When Snape remained where he was, Pomfrey made another attempt to shoo him away. "I'll keep you apprised of her condition, Severus. We should leave the girl to her rest now, I think."

"In a moment. I want a word with Miss Parkinson."

"Professor Snape. This girl is ill and needs her rest. I must insist..."

"I'm afraid _I_ must insist, Madame. This girl was out of bounds, after hours, under questionable circumstances. She is in my charge, and I have every right to interrogate her regarding her actions. And I will not leave until I have a satisfactory explanation." He was ostensibly speaking to Madame Pomfrey, but Snape had continued to glare at Pansy. He stood at the foot of the bed, arms crossed, waiting expectantly for her to begin speaking.

Pansy opened her mouth, but as her throat was terribly dry and tight, she only managed to begin a small coughing fit.

Pomfrey clucked her tongue and patted Pansy gently on the back and handed her a glass of water from the bedside table."You see? You're upsetting the poor girl."

Pansy took a quick sip of the water and cut in before Snape really lost his temper. "Please, Madam Pomfrey. It's all right. I'd like to talk to Professor Snape now, if it's all the same." When Pomfrey seemed a bit nonplussed by this, Pansy added, "I'll sleep better if I just get this over with."

Pomfrey pursed her lips as though she were about to argue, but then simply walked back toward her office with a disapproving "Hmph!" as she brushed past Snape.

Pansy waited for him to begin. She didn't know how much he knew, and she knew better than to give him more information than she absolutely had to.

But she didn't expect him to ask the question he did. "What is between you and Miss Weasley?"

"N-nothing sir. Nothing at all," Pansy stammered, completely thrown by his query. Snape had an unnerving ability to read students' minds, but this was uncanny. Had he actually seen what happened with Ginny?

"You lied to me to protect her. Why?" 

_Ah, that was it_. At least this was something she might be able to work with.

_Why indeed_. She had done it without thinking. Protecting Ginny had seemed the most natural thing in the world. But her feelings about her were not something Snape was likely to understand, even if she could have explained them to him, or to herself for that matter.

"I'm waiting, Miss Parkinson. I know that you were trapped in that room with Miss Weasley, and I know that she took the book from my office. I will deal with her later. But I want you to tell me why you are trying to protect her."

She decided to give him a reason he was likely to condone. For Snape was certainly not opposed to lying, or even being lied to on occasion, if he found the reasons acceptable.

"Weasley... she... When I knew we were trapped, I panicked. Then I became ill. It was horrible and she... she took care of me. I owed her."

"So you were merely settling the score?" Snape asked skeptically. "Nothing more to it than that?"

_What had he inferred?_ "I'm not sure I know what you're asking me, sir."

"I am asking why you suddenly feel beholden to a girl - and a Gryffindor at that - about whom you had not previously cared one jot. Surely you are aware that as a prefect, Miss Weasley did no more than she was obliged to in tending to your illness."

"She didn't just dutifully care for a sick classmate. I know you've told us never to show weakness... but I was so sick, and I simply couldn't help it. And she didn't take the advantage, didn't even try. On the contrary. She was actually kind to me... more than I had any right to expect. I needed her, and she was there for me."

Snape snorted. "She is a Gryffindor. They do so love to play the hero."

"It wasn't like that!"

Snape raised an eyebrow.

"I'm sorry, sir. I just meant that she wasn't... arrogant about it in the way her kind usually are. Didn't expect thanks. She just did it. So yes, I suppose I do feel kindness toward her in return."

Snape sighed. "It just had to be a Weasley," he said cryptically.

"Sir?"

"Miss Parkinson -- Pansy. I don't need to remind you of who you are, and what is at stake. It should therefore come as no surprise that I must advise caution in your dealings with Miss Weasley," he said softly, almost gently. 

Snape paused, studying Pansy's face carefully for a moment before he continued. "I am not saying that you may not pursue a... friendship with the girl, if that is your intention. But the utmost discretion is called for. And I would remind you that Gryffindors are notoriously bad at practicing discretion."

~~**~~

_It was one of those dreams in which you are almost aware that you are dreaming._

Pansy found herself kissing Ginny again, open-mouthed and hungry, as she had been earlier. Except this time she was lying prone and Ginny was moving over her. Pansy could not see her body clearly, but she somehow knew Ginny was naked. Ginny's hands seemed to be everywhere, touching, teasing, but never quite fulfilling their promise.

Pansy wanted to press her breast into Ginny's hand. She wanted to move her hips, grind them against the other girl. She wanted to move her own hands, to touch Ginny, to bring her to a similar state of arousal; to touch herself, to relieve the nearly unbearable pressure that had built up between her legs. She could feel the thick pulse there, deep within her own slick heat. She was just the slightest bit of stimulation away from coming, yet she could not move, could not even speak, to beg it of Ginny.

As though Ginny's dream-self understood her desire, she moved her mouth away from Pansy's, first trailing down Pansy's neck, then moving to her breasts, tongue flicking lightly over the hard, sensitized nipples. Pausing only briefly to tease her there, seeming to know she needed more, Ginny moved further down, planting soft kisses along the soft curve of Pansy's belly while her hands caressed the insides of her thighs. Pansy's whole world seemed to narrow, focused on the craving in her sex for the girl who had brought her to this peak of arousal, the girl who smiled with mischief and asked Pansy what she wanted next.

Near-mad with the need for completion, Pansy still could not speak, but instead called out her need with all her being. _Please..._

Somehow, that word seemed to have made it to her throat. Just as she realized that, Ginny's image seemed to blur, and the light seemed to change in quality.

Pansy opened her eyes to a haziness that made it unclear whether she had actually awakened, or whether she was still in the dream. She was more confused as Ginny's image appeared in the center of that haze, standing over her. 

Pansy made another attempt at speech. "Ginny," she managed, then shook her head to clear it. Then she registered that _this_ Ginny was fully clothed. _Awake, then._

"I came to see how you were feeling. I worried when I didn't see you at supper."

_Supper? What time was it?_ Pansy struggled to sit up. As she did, she had to hold back from gasping as the shift in position heightened the near-unbearable arousal that still had a vise-grip on her body. She was grateful for the blankets that shielded her from Ginny.

Ginny sat down on the bed, her outer thigh brushing Pansy's, sending small shock waves through Pansy's body that seemed to culminate in her aching groin. 

Ginny, oblivious to Pansy's torment, hesitated a moment before she spoke. "Pansy... we need to talk. About what happened."

_Oh gods. Not now._ Pansy didn't want to talk about this just yet. Not while her body was still heavy with desire for this girl, not before she'd had a chance to think about all of this. Not while she was still at a disadvantage.

Pansy did her best to resume her cool demeanor; half-hoping Ginny would take the hint and leave, half-hoping that Ginny would charge ahead, taking Pansy where she feared to go.

She should have known which path Ginny Weasley would choose. 

"Ginny. I... appreciate you stopping by. And everything you did to help me last night, truly. But I'm afraid that I'm just too exhausted to chat with you right now." 

"I did not come here for a _chat_, Parkinson. What happened last night did not make us talking buddies. I'm here to figure out what it did make us." Ginny took a steadying breath, laying her hand gently over Pansy's.

"We kissed, Pansy. You can tell me that you didn't like it, that you don't like me, that it disgusted you. I probably won't believe you if you do, but say it if you feel you must. But I need you to say _something_. Because you should know that I'm not prepared to simply forget that it happened." Ginny spoke with a passion, her dark eyes intense.

And suddenly, caution was the last thing on Pansy's mind.

  
**TBC**

------- 

**A/N:** _Serpentigena Sum Sanguine Serpentino, Salva Me!_ Loosely translates as 'I am Serpent-born; Blood of the Serpent, save me!'

Thanks to Pigwidgeon37 for assistance with the Latin. (The lovely, alliterative Latin she cobbled together for me from my choppy, if syntactically correct phrases. The inelegant translation is mine.)


End file.
